


Ashes, Ashes

by wrestlecore



Series: The stories of Sataerys Lavellan [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Found Family, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, bear with me idk if i got the characterization right, i don't think any inquisitor made it thought the entire game unscathed, i went. full on rpg mode during sat's run, mineave flissa n adan are mentioned, sat is like. barely 18
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 14:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20409286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrestlecore/pseuds/wrestlecore
Summary: After Haven, Sataerys wasn't the same. Both he and the inner circle knew. How can anyone help if he refused to open up?





	Ashes, Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea during the Haven cutscene with Cory what the fuck, and I realized that there was no way anyone would bounce back from that (Mayhaps in certain circumstances tho.)

_The snow blurred the houses around him, and his blades clashed with a sword made of red lyrium. He closed his eyes, hoping to avoid seeing the face of a once human Templar._

_“Do you hear that? Survivors!” He heard Solas yell, as the sounds of red templars being cut down were all around him._

_As he slashed and pushed away the red templar in front of him, the elf made a dash for the burning pots. “Help me please! It’s gonna explode!” The shriek of Minaeve raised the hairs on the back of his neck._

_“Minaeve!”_

_Minaeve had been the first person he talked to in Haven. At first it had been curiosity, after all, everyone told him to bring enemy scraps to her. It wasn’t until he worked up the courage to talk to her, he understood. Minaeve told him how she protected the Tranquil, and how life in the Circle was for her. She told him how she was kicked out of her clan, “Too many mages.” She said._

_“My clan found a different way, we’d send anyone with magic to other clans in need of a mage.” He quietly spoke after she finished. Minaeve stilled for a bit, hands still on a demon claw. Did he offend her? Did he upset her? Would she kick him out?_

_“We cannot change the past, Herald.” She murmured._

_“Do you wish you could?”_

_“Sometimes, just to see what it would be like.” Minaeve then turned to face him, a small smile on her face. But she brightened up after a split second “Now, come see the toxin I’ve been working on.” She said, almost as if forgetting the previous conversation._

_“Herald… Sataerys, we don’t have much time.” Minaeve heaved, the smoke making the both of them cough violently._

_“No no no, Minaeve just… just hold on!” He cried, pulling away the debris on her. “Bull, help!” He screamed, but when he looked back, Bull was gone. Blackwall and Solas were gone too. The strong wind was the only thing he was able to hear._

_He turned to face Minaeve again, except it wasn’t Minaeve. A demon? A red templar? He couldn’t see. A screech and the white hot burning pain caused him to cover his left cheek. It was a burning sensation on him. Then all he felt were claws digging into him as he let out a scream of surprise and pain._

Sataerys shot up from his bed, a cold sweat covering his skin and a hand flying to the left side of his neck. The elf panted as he realized that he was safe, he was in Skyhold. There was no fire or heat, just the cool wind of the mountain. “Fuck.” He shakily whispered.

Moonlight gleamed through his windows, Sataerys quietly making his way to open one of the doors. The moon was high in the sky, and the cool mountain air rushed through the open door. He shivered slightly, still not used to the mountains and the cold.

‘I need… a drink or something. Yeah, that’ll help.’ He thought. Walking out of his room and descending down the steps was the easy, but when he reached the door to the main hall, Sataerys pressed his ear against the door. The sound of clanking metal could be heard from the entrance, the guards perhaps changing.

He cracked open the door, pushing it slowly, then shutting it quietly. The guards near the throne jumped at seeing him, but gave the elf a small nod as Sataerys made his way to the looming doors. As he did, he saw Solas at his desk with papers and books scattered around him. Fade research, he assumed.

When he peeked through the gap between the open doors, making sure that the coast was clear. It wasn’t that Sataerys minded if someone saw him, no, it mattered if they asked questions. Questions that he didn’t want to answer. Especially after another nightmare.

-

Ever since Haven, his inner circle had been tiptoeing around him, avoiding the topic of Corypheus. Sometimes however, they slipped up.

Blackwall was the first to slip up. The first time Sataerys managed to get to the warden when they arrived to Skyhold, he wanted to inspect the battlements. “We’ll be able to see Corypheus coming from miles away.” He said. 

“And we’ll be able to see him, we’ll be ready.” The newly appointed Inquisitor murmured.

“Let him come, I’ll take that bastard down, even if I have to die to do it.” Blackwall slammed his fist on his palm, and Sataerys snapped his head towards the older man.

“No.” The elf sharply replied, anger written on his face. “I won’t let you think or even say that.” An unspoken that’s final hung in the air, and Sataerys turned to look at the vast mountains ahead.

“I wouldn’t be the first to die in your service.”

Sataerys flinched when he heard those words, feeling his hands ball up into fists and biting his lip. Josephine had told him about the workers who gave their lives to try to buy time. That along with Blackwall’s words left a rotten feeling in his stomach. 

Blackwall seemed to have noticed how the elf tensed up, quickly saying, “I meant no ill will, Inquisitor.”

“Okay.” The word came out in a tiny rasp. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the Grey Warden struggling to form words of comfort. “Could-” Sataerys cleared his throat. “Could you leave me with my thoughts for a bit?”

“Of course.” As soon as he was sure Blackwall was gone, he crumbled. He was glad there wasn’t assigned guards yet, he didn't want anyone to see the Inquisitor cry. 

-

The battlements is where he ended up, just above the tavern. Sataerys wondered if the patrons and staff ever slept, it always seemed as if there was activity. But it wasn’t much of a concern, he usually avoided the tavern and he refused to drink. At times like this, he wondered if it was worth it.

“Restless, frightened, Haven haunts you. Haunts you in your sleep, haunts you when you speak.”

Sataerys jumped back, emitting a high yelp. “Mythal’s tits, Cole!” He harshly whispered. “You know a warning would be really nice.”

“I heard your hurt, the nightmares about Haven.” Cole was perched on the indentation next to him, looking down at the snow-covered mountains. “I want to help.”

The elf sighed, leaning back on the battlement wall with his arms crossed, head tilted up. “I don’t know if you can, making me forget isn’t the best course of action either.”

There were a few moments of silence before Cole spoke up again. “Varric has been teaching me, teaching me that talking about hurt helps.” Sataerys could feel the spirit’s eyes on him, almost as if asking.

“I was… close with some of the folk at Haven.” Sataerys started. “Minaeve, Adan, Flissa.”

“Yes, sometimes you think about them, and about what if they made it to Skyhold.”

“I feel like I failed them.” Sataerys gnawed at his bottom lip, eyes flickering side to side. “I can still hear their screams, I can still feel the fire. Fuck, I even have a reminder.” He said as he gestured to the left side of his body.

Sataerys didn’t come out of Haven unscathed. Corypheus made sure of that. The burns on his body were physical proof and the mental scars left on him would probably never go away.

"Flying back, hurt exploding on my side, embers falling from the sky. It hurts, it hurts so much." Cole began. “Fingers digging and cutting into my wrist, the mark going wild, it’s green tendrils searing into my skin.”

Corypheus had been a sight, the magister’s face twisted in hate, a snarl marring his face. Sataerys remembered himself dangling in his grip, kicking and screaming at open air. He couldn’t even focus on Corypheus’ speech, just saw his mouth moving.

“Haven’s burning, Haven’s burning,” Cole continued. “I can almost smell the burning bodies, my friends who hours prior I saw alive.” Sataerys could feel his hands balling into fists. Even when he slept, that foul smell and the taste of ash haunted his nightmares.

“Enough.” Sataerys hissed, eyes widening as soon as the word came out. “Please, stop.” Cole had a guilty look on his face, as guilty as a spirit could look anyway. “I’m sorry Cole, I just…” The Inquisitor rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not helping, am I?”

“Um…”

Cole gazed at him with a look of sympathy. “Solas thinks you are too young for the pressure. Varric is reminded of Hawke when he sees you.” He murmurs, Sataerys humming in response. “They want to help, but they think you should be by yourself for a bit.” 

“Are you gonna listen to my thoughts and tell them?”

Cole hummed lowly, tapping the stone beneath him. "No, it's not my place to, and Varric told me that for some people, untangling the hurt can make it worse.”

Sataerys mouthed an ‘okay’, then pursing his lips in a tight line. “I’m not… Mythal’s tits,” He swore, knotting his fingers in his hair and sighing in exasperation. “Listen, I’m not ready to talk about my feelings and fuck, I don’t know how!” The elf’s hands flew up quickly, and then he slowly brought them down to his sides.

Tension clung to the young man, and Sataerys grinded his teeth together as he clasped his hands together tightly. Hot, wet tears began to build up in his eyes and he felt his bottom lip wobble. He wasn’t equipped for this, not for any of it. "I'm sorry." He heard the spirit say.

"It's not your fault, I just... there's too many feelings."

Cole’s sympathetic gaze was still on him, he could feel it. But as Sataerys took a deep breath, he realized he felt… a tiny bit better, almost as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. As if talking with Cole squashed the feelings of failure.

“I…” Sataerys started, noticing that his voice sounded a bit scratchy. “I feel a little better though, I don't know if that's your doing or not. Thank you, Cole.”

Cole tilted his head to the side curiously, but Sataerys swore he saw a hint of a tiny smile on the spirit’s face. “Goodnight Inquisitor.” He said meekly. 

“Goodnight Cole.” Sataerys said as he began to walk towards the stairs of the battlements. Keeper Deshanna had always told him that different types of people relied on each other, for many different things.

His inner circle was unique with their way of life and experiences, perhaps it was his turn to add into that. Perhaps it was time for him to stop acting like he had to do this alone. 

As he looked up at the moon, he prayed for the advice of the gods. His world was turned upside down in the span of months, naivety leaving him as he faced the wars between shems.

Perhaps it was time to open up. 

These feelings would explode over time, and he would’ve had to pick up the pieces.

The comfort of friends is what he sought, and the comfort of friends is what he needed for the future. 

This he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! You made it to the end! I don't have a dragon age blog so y'all can find me on my main blog, wrestlecore on tumblr (talk to me about da if you want)! This isn't my best work so feel free to give me criticism, maybe there's mistakes I didn't find while editing. Have a good day/night!


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